Shadows
by SacredNagChampa
Summary: He’s her brother; he was made to protect her, to comfort her, to take care of her. He kisses her hair, “Shh,” he whispers in her ear, his lips brushing her earlobe, “I’ve got you, Alex. You’re safe.” And, god, how he wishes that were true. Justin/Alex
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_Relentless, yes, it's true._

_My motor mouth runs over you._

Alligator- Tegan and Sara

Prologue

It's weird, seeing her cry. Yeah, he's grown up with her, spent years studying the odd behavior of his younger sister. But she's never been one to cry.

He remembers taking care of her when she was little, when she still allowed him to, she was always so, _demanding_, but not because she cried, never because she cried. She just always craved attention, especially his.

He remembers one day when she was five and he was seven. They had been playing tag out on the terrace, it was hot summer day, the air heavy, a storm was coming.

Their mom watched them from the living room as she folded laundry. He was it, a rare occurrence and he was running around, trying to catch his little sister in their confined space, but she was faster, always dodging his hand and sending him a mischievous smile over her shoulder when he failed to reach her. But all it took was one glance, and she tripped.

The smile left his face and he rushed to his fallen sister, he stumbled to the ground, scraping his own knee and gathered his sister as best as he could. Her brown eyes were glazed with tears and her bottom lip jutted out as she tried to keep them at bay. He searched her for any injuries and found both of her knees were scraped badly, blood slowly seeping out of her wound. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

She shook her head but didn't say anything, just swallowed thickly, trying to contain her sob. He frowned and stood carefully, trying to carry Alex with him, but he wasn't strong enough, yet, instead, he wrapped his arm around her and half carried her into the loft, hurrying to the bathroom, ignoring the look of concern on their mother's face.

He set her carefully on the edge of the tub and struggled to gather a wash cloth and band-aids, finally he did. Wetting the cloth and dabbing away the blood on his sister's knees. She flinched when the cotton got stuck in a cut, but still she didn't cry. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, he finished his task, blowing on her scrapes before putting her Barbie band-aid over the cuts. He looked up and smiled at her gently, "You okay now?"

She smiled widely before pushing him away, "You're it!" She exclaimed and ran out the door.

*****

He smiles at the memory and looks down at his sleeping sister's form. Her head rests in his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso. She looks upset, even in her sleep, but she still hasn't cried. He clenches his fist, bunching up the fabric of her shirt in his hand. He's seriously contemplating killing that bastard. He's not one for violence, but he's seriously considering it after this last guy broke his sister's heart.

Their mom called him, earlier this week, insisting that he leave Cornell and come home for the weekend. Alex was a mess, her newest boyfriend; a douchebag named Kyle, had told her he needed a "break" and then proceeded to flounce around the high school with Alex's once again nemesis, Gigi.

Alex stirs in his lap, blinking rapidly, trying to rid the sleep from her eyes, "Hey," she says, her voice still thick with sleep. "You're still here?"

"Yeah," he whispers, "You okay?"

She shakes her head, her eyes growing wet once more, "No, I—" She trails off, choking on her words.

Justin's eyes soften, all contempt he has for Kyle leaving him for a moment, instead he focuses on the girl in his lap. This, force of nature, that's kept him on his toes for the last seventeen years. He gathers her, careful of her small of her body, and pulls her into his lap, she rests her head in the crook of his neck and wraps her arms around her brother, openly sobbing now, soaking his neck with her tears.

He doesn't mind, just wraps his arms around her tighter, reminding her that he's there, that he isn't going to hurt her. He's her brother; he was made to protect her, to comfort her, to take care of her. He kisses her hair, "Shh," he whispers in her ear, his lips brushing her earlobe, "I've got you, Alex. You're safe."

And, god, how he wishes that were true.

He wishes that he wasn't hazardous to her, wishes that he could protect her.

Especially from himself.


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_I'm a mountain that has been moved.  
I'm a river that is all dried up.  
I'm an ocean nothing floats on.  
I'm a sky that nothing wants to fly in.  
I'm a sun that doesn't burn hot.  
I'm a moon that never shows it's face.  
I'm a mouth that doesn't smile.  
I'm a word that no one ever wants to say._

Daisy- Brand New

Chapter One

He wishes he could wash it away. Scrub at his skin until is pink and raw, watch it as it swirls down the drain in the shower. But it's not that easy. Can never be that easy, will _never_ be that easy.

He clenches his eyes shut, tries to picture the beach that he used to go to when he was kid. He barely remembers it, just little things; his hand in his mother's, piggyback rides from his dad. Building sandcastles, the breeze on face, and the heat of the sun burning his skin.

It's his only happy memory that doesn't include Alex.

Justin sighs deeply, opening his eyes reluctantly; he's still in the Sub Station. The chairs are stacked carefully on the tables, the floors reflecting the florescent lighting of his mom and dad's restaurant.

It's quiet here, save for the electric hum of the lights, as it should be at three in the morning. He sits in the back of the restaurant, his knees pulled to his chest as he sits uncomfortably in the booth. He leans his head forward, resting his chin on his knee and cries.

*****

"Mom! I'm so sorry," a ten year old Justin exclaims, Theresa shushes him from the front seat of the cab and brushes her lip against Alex's forehead.

"It's okay, honey," she says gently moments later, he isn't sure if she's trying to comfort him or Alex, but he'll take it.

He watches as the city passes, wills the car to move faster. His sister is hurt and it's his entire fault. He should have been more firm with her. Their parents trusted him to take her safely to the park and bring her back.

He shakes his head and swallows thickly.

The least he could have done was catch her. He even failed at that.

Alex whimpers from the front seat and Justin's stomach clenches. He's suddenly assaulted with images of her swinging back and forth on the monkey bars, the smile spreading across her face when she makes it halfway across. She swung back, reached forward and—

She fell.

He heard it, heard her bone snap. Saw her face pale when she finally made the realization that something was wrong with her body. Her eyes filled with tears and—

Nothing.

She didn't cry. Just pouted, pleaded, "Justin," so quietly and he wasted no time, gathered her in his arms, her arms laced around his neck, "My ankle her hurts," she continued, eyes still wet, "Can you take me home?"

He just nodded and pulled her closer.

He thanked god and hailed Mary on the walk home. He was so thankful that he could finally support her weight.

When they get to the hospital, he's out of the car faster than his mother. He wants to yell for a doctor, demand that someone fixes his sister _right now_. But he's just a little boy and shy, and being a big brother isn't quite as amazing here, doesn't have the same clout that it does on the playground.

Instead, he pulls back, watches his mother as she fills out all the right papers, watches Alex sulk in their mother's lap.

Later, she's in a bed, her foot in a cast, he sits alone with her, watches as she sleeps; all the pain and sadness gone from her face. Their parents are talking with the doctor, learning all the dos and don'ts of a cast. He listens to them halfheartedly, learning the basics with them.

He studies their shadows through the flimsy curtain that provides privacy for his sister. He turns back to her, tears forming in his eyes. God, he's the reason that she's in here.

He sniffles and wipes at his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Are you crying?" Alex asks, her voice groggy and quiet, but it fills the room, earning his full attention. Her eyes are half open and she tries to sit up in bed.

He sniffles again, shakes his head, he's grateful for the lack of light, she can't see his eyes in here, "No," he answers, "It's just my allergies."

*****

"Dude, what are you doing down here?" Max greets him the next morning.

Justin blinks, taking in his surroundings, he wipes his eyes and studies his watch; it's eight. Oh god, there is a knot in his neck that his the size of Texas, and he is never sleeping in a booth again. "Nothing," he says, he sounds a little pissed, and he sighs, "Sorry, Max. I had a long night. And my neck is killing me."

Max shrugs, "Whatever, man. Want to help me take down these chairs?"

Justin nods, not that he really wants to help, it's his responsibility as a brother, as a son, as a former employee.

He hates obligations.

Max and Justin make steady work of prepping the Station for the day. When they're done, Justin makes his way upstairs, anxious for his bed and a few hours of sleep before he has to be back at Cornell.

"Dude, I told you, table five, it's comfy, right?" He startles at the sound of his sister's voice and tries to hide it.

He rolls his eyes, "No, not really. I slept at table eight."

Alex frowns, her lips pouting and lines appearing on her forehead, "Oh, right. Well, next time, go for five. I promise no neck pain at table five." She smiles innocently and he hates her for a second.

He removes his hand from his neck and walks to the counter, sits in the chair across from her, "Why are you up so early?"

She shrugs and turns away from him, opening the fridge and digging through the contents, "Couldn't sleep, I guess." She murmurs, pushing leftovers around. Seconds later, she's closing the fridge with her foot, a carton of milk in one hand and a pie tin in the other.

"Pie for breakfast?" He asks incredulously, although, it's Alex, he shouldn't be surprised.

She raises her eyebrows, asking him for an argument, he shrugs in return and she nods, opening the silverware drawer and pulls out two forks. She offers him one and he takes it without a word.

She takes her bite first, closing her eyes and moaning in pleasure, "Oh, god," she groans, "I love mom's coconut cream pie, _so much_." There's a bit of said cream on her lip, the white glaringly obvious against the pink of her lip. She licks it away, her tongue darting out, leaving her lower lip wet.

He swallows thickly and looks down, away from her face. And her lips. Away from the crime that she is.

He scoops some of the pie up on his fork. Studies it closely, inhales the scent of coconut, and savors the smell of the crust that reminds him of sugar cookies and Christmas. He takes a bite. Not quite as enthusiastically as his sister.

"It's good, right?" She asks, her mouth half full, more cream on her lip.

He nods, ignoring her gaze and takes another bite.

Maybe too good.

*****

When he gets back to Cornell, he takes the longest shower he's ever taken. He scrubs so hard. Until it hurts. Until he bleeds.

But all that's mixed with the water is a little swirl of red.

His sin still thick in his pores.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for joining me again! I am having so much fun writing from Justin's perspective. But, please, remember, I am girl. So, it may not be that great. All the teenage/twenty year old guys I hang out with are douchebags, so I don't have the best examples for writing Justin, lol. Leave a review, let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_They say it fades if you let it  
Love was made to forget it  
I carved your name across my eyelids  
You pray for rain, I pray for blindness_

Crown of Love- Arcade Fire

Chapter Two

He was never one to stare out a window in high school. He would always scowl (well, as best as he could) in the direction of those that did and make a big show of taking his own notes. But things change. And it's the only thing he can focus on nowadays. He watches as the snow falls outside his class. Slow and steady, covering the ground with a white, clean blanket. All the faults of the grass and sidewalk hidden beneath it.

He doesn't take any notes. Just stares out the window until a man comes and clears a path.

*****

"No, mom, I can't," he sighs and fiddles with the pen in his hand, his gaze focused outside his small window, it's still snowing, the sun sinking, disappearing from his sight for another night, "I told you, coming home for one weekend was detrimental to my school work. I'm so far behind. I can't afford another weekend without studying."

She says something about family obligations, how he needs to be home this weekend, tells him that Alex has reverted back to her depressed state, locking herself in her bedroom, avoiding the family.

"Do you want me to lose my scholarship?" He asks, his tone so bitter and harsh that it surprises even him. "Sorry," he murmurs apologetically, "I'm just so stressed out, mom. And, as much I wish I could help Alex," he swallows thickly, acid burning his throat, "I can't."

She's quiet on the other end, sensing that he's telling the truth and sighs, "Alright then, I'll call you later?"

He nods, licking his lips, his body filling with relief, "Yeah."

He hangs up, letting his cell slip from his grasp and fall into his comforter. He continues to stare out the window.

*****

"How are we going to do this?" Alex asks indignantly, her hands perched on her tiny hips.

Justin rolls his eyes impatiently, "Just like they do in the movies, duh," he looks up at his sister, finds her still pouting in his direction; her cheeks are rosy from the cold, her pigtails peeking out from under her baby blue hat and puffs of white coming from her mouth as she continues to huff at him.

"Justin," she says, her voice stern like their mother's and he stifles a laugh. "I know that, what I meant was, where are we supposed to build this? Outside the restaurant?" She raises an eyebrow and moves her hands, crossing her arms over her chest.

He doesn't answer her for a moment, she does have a point. There isn't much room to build one outside. And the terrace is out. He bites his lower lip, "We could have dad take us to the park?"

She rolls her eyes and gestures to the Station where their parents are busy taking orders and making sandwiches, "When?"

He huffs and stands, brushing snow off of his snow pants, "Whatever, Alex. I'm going to go read."

He stomps into the restaurant and leaves her behind.

She avoids him for the rest of the day, but he catches her looking at him, her eyes sad and a frown on her face.

That night when he goes to bed he finds a white snowman on his pillow, carefully crafted out of construction paper; it's complete with eyes, a nose, a smiling face, two arms, a scarf and a top hat. A smile tugs at his lips and he flips it over, he finds "sorry" scribbled on the back in Alex's sloppy six year old handwriting.

He tucks it away in a box full of her other creations that rest under his bed.

They're his only favorite things that Alex never takes away.

*****

"Hey, Justin, it's me—"

He hits the seven on his phone and puts it back to his ear. "Justin, it's me again--"

He deletes it. And deletes the five after that.

The next message starts with a shaky breath, "Justin," she starts, her voice small, she sniffles and he closes his eyes at the sound, "It's me, Alex. I, uh, I really need to talk to you. And, I," she takes a deep breath, "Did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me? Please call me back."

He releases the breath that he was holding before he deletes that message, too.

*****

"Russo, you going to the party with me?"

Justin turns to his roommate, focusing on him for only a moment before he turns back to his computer, a blank word document on the screen, "Not tonight. I have this essay to do, and some reading. Maybe next time though." He smiles half heartedly but his roommate just shrugs him off and leaves the room.

He likes numbers and formulas. They're safe. And easy. Sometimes they're even comforting in their familiarity.

He hates writing. He's never been one for creativity, sure, he's built robots and created new spells, but he leaves the creativity to Alex.

If he were talking to her, he'd call her; have her tell him about some crazy dream she had the night before. She'd help him out. Give him some sort of idea for this essay. She's smart and imaginative, she's come up with some of the best lies (and some of the not so best lies); writing comes to her just as naturally as her art does, not that she's ever shared it with anyone but him.

He stares at the phone that rests on his stand. Willing it to explode or come to him.

It does neither. Just sits on his stand where it normally is.

He shakes his head, willing himself to focus on the task at hand. There has to be something that he can write about. He opens his iTunes, listens to a few songs, waiting for something to come to him.

He wanders around his small room, recites spells and sings the element song. He plucks the strings on his guitar, a song easily coming to him.

But thoughts of Alex won't leave his head.

He keeps hearing that sniffle, that hint that she had been crying. Had been hurting. And it was his fault.

He sets his guitar down and reaches for his phone, not giving it much thought, just finding her number in his phone (which isn't hard, she's always been on top of his list) and calls her.

But she doesn't answer and he knows that he's hurt her more than that asshole, Kyle.

He closes his eyes, his hands clenching at his sides.

He grabs his wand from its hidden place and sends himself to Alex's room.

He was hoping for a scream, for her to yell at him for invading her room.

But it's dark, which is odd, it's only a little after ten and Alex is usually up doing something. He lets his eyes adjust to the lack of light and finally he finds her, nestled on her bed, her blankets wrapped tightly around her.

He relaxes a little, knowing that she's safe, that she's relatively okay. He walks to her bed, finds her brow puckered, her eyes moving quickly beneath her eyelids, he sighs sadly, knows the reason she's sleeping so restlessly, so he smoothes her hair back, brushes his lips on her forehead and vanishes himself away.


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_This is fact, not fiction  
For the first time in years  
All the girls in every girlie magazine  
Can't make me feel any less alone  
I'm reaching for the phone_

Lack of Color- Death Cab for Cutie

Chapter Three

The snow's melting. Forty degree days for the rest of the week, well, so says the weather man, but Justin's knows that they can often be wrong.

He hasn't been home since February.

He can't be. He doesn't want to be.

He can't stand _this_ anymore. It gets worse every day, increases tenfold when he sees her, when he hears her. It's better off for everyone if he stays where he is.

It's safer.

And Justin's always been about protecting the ones he loves. Even if it pains him.

He's doing what's best. He's being a good brother. He's keeping her safe, away from him. He's being a good son and keeping the family intact.

Well, he was trying to anyway.

His dad called, a rare occurrence, his father hated talking on phones, he preferred face to face conversations so Justin was more than surprised when he answered the phone to hear his father on the other end.

Alex had run away. They don't know where she's gone or why, but she disappeared after dinner the previous night.

He doesn't make his dad plead, just agrees to find her.

*****

"Alex," Justin says impatiently, frowning at his sister's back as she tugs harder on his wrist, "What are you doing?"

She glances back at him, a huge grin on her face, the wind whipping her hair around her face; she brushes it away with her free hand and doesn't answer him, just keeps pulling her with him, giggling to herself as she does so.

He hears the ocean before he sees it, well, he can hear the waves better now he's not confined in their room and the breeze a little stronger. And he allows himself a small smile; this has always been one of his favorite places.

They've vacationed in Scarborough all of his life, even when it was just his parents and him. They stay in a quaint hotel room, with a tiny kitchenette that their mom always cooks in, a small dining area, an old beat up couch and two beds. Well, they used to stay in the ones with two beds, but once Max was born and Alex got a little older, their parents insisted that they have a room with three beds.

He'll never admit it to anyone, but he misses the days that Alex could still sleep with him, even if she did steal all of the covers and often kicked him in her sleep.

Alex drags him down, slipping in the sand as it slopes to meet the ocean. It's darker on the beach, without the city lights. He can see the stars clearly, makes out more constellations than he ever can in the city. The moon is full this night, providing them with ample light.

"See, I knew you'd love it down here," Alex grins, lets go of his hand and wades into the water.

"Well, if you didn't get us banned from the beach with your stunt yesterday, we could've enjoyed this with Max and mom and dad earlier," he replies, even though, yeah, this is nice, and he does love it.

She rolls her eyes, "Whatever, come on, come swimming with me!"

"Alex, we really shouldn't, there isn't a life guard on duty and you could—" His advice comes too late as she's already removed her pajamas and is now surfacing for air, "drown," he finishes as she grins cheekily at him and motions again for him to join her.

He does so begrudgingly and they spend the next hour swimming, playing Marco Polo and acting like kids again.

When her teeth begin to chatter he insists that they get out and return to their room.

Once their pajamas are back on Justin heads back up to the road, itching to get back to their room, knowing that it's only a matter of time before their parents realize that they're gone. He turns, reaching his hand for Alex, knows that she's always struggled walking up this hill, but she isn't there. She's still on the beach, staring up at the full moon.

He sighs, but goes back to her, grabs her gently on the wrist, "Hey, come on," he says softly, "you're freezing." She shivers slightly, emphasizing his point and she frowns, creasing the perfect skin of her forehead.

She wraps her arms around his torso and buries her face in his chest, "I'm sorry," she says, her words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

He nods, his chin touching the top of her head, he swallows hard and hesitantly wraps his arms around her, moving his hands up and down her back, trying to warm her up, "It's okay," he murmurs back.

They stay like that for a few moments until Alex looks up at him, confusion clear on her face, "Do you hear that?"

"What?" He whispers, panic spreading through him, he doesn't have his wand and well, let's face it, isn't quite sure what he's physically capable of doing to protect her.

"I swear I just heard…" She trails off.

"Heard what?"

"Shh," she insists, "Hear that?" She asks again. And then she howls, "I think Isabella is trying to contact you." She snorts and buries her face back into his chest.

He hides his grin in her hair.

*****

He left at eleven, twenty minutes after he hung up with his dad.

He knows where she is. And is either going to curse her or pull her into a hug when he finally gets to her. He spends the next six and half hours driving, only stopping once to go the bathroom and get some coffee. The ride always seemed to go by so much faster when their dad was driving, then again, he's driving from Ithaca, which is farther away than the city.

He yawns into his hand countless times and keeps the car cool as he doesn't want to give into the inviting warmth of the heat and do something stupid like fall asleep at the wheel.

He arrives quarter to six and doesn't bother stopping at the main office, no one is there and he just _knows_ which room she's in, he pounds on the door, not caring if she's asleep, he should be, dammit, and he's not because he's saving her ass. Again.

She opens the door, her favorite afghan from home wrapped around her shoulders, her eyes wet and red, and sniffles unpleasantly when she sees him.

All of his insults leave his tongue and he pulls her to him, wrapping her up tightly, shushing her, reassuring her that everything's going to be okay and he follows her into the room, slamming the door behind them.

* * *

A/N: I know it's slow so far and I know it's not making the most sense but everything will start to move along next chapter. Leave a review and lemme know what you think. :)


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_Oh so don't pay no mind  
To my watering eyes  
Must be something in the air  
That I'm breathing  
Yes'n I try to ignore  
All this blood on the floor  
It's just this heart on my sleeve that's a bleeding_

Burn- Ray LaMontagne

Chapter Four

"Why would you do it?" She asks him when he's fully in her room. He ignores her, looks over her shoulder and studies the messy room, the sheets not completely on the bed, candy wrappers on the floor, bottles of soda on the nightstand.

"I don't know," he replies hoarsely, gripping her tightly, knowing that she seconds away from extracting herself from his arms.

She pushes him away harshly and he stumbles, catching himself on the door, "You're an asshole, you know that? A really selfish asshole. They were my memories, too, Justin! You had no right to take them away from me!"

"I didn't," he says softly, "I've just been—"

She narrows her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest, and she looks so much like their mother that it makes him nauseas, "Been what? Hiding them from me? Just where do you keep them Justin? Are they locked away in your dorm?" She scoffs and settles on the bed, wrapping her blanket around herself once more.

"I didn't hide them," he approaches the bed carefully, sitting on the edge of the double mattress, "I—I found a potion. That, I don't know, suppresses them. I used to put them in your drinks. They have to be administered twice a week…"

"How long?" She asks and he knows she doesn't care about the logistics of it.

He looks at her and sighs heavily; he never breaks his eye contact as he replies, "Three years."

She lets out a sob, covering her hand over her mouth before she rushes to the bathroom and throws up.

*****

The first time he kisses her, she's just a baby. He doesn't quite remember it, but he's been told the story so many times that it's ingrained in his mind. Their mother was holding Alex to her chest, marveling at her daughter when Justin climbed up on the couch, kissed the baby girl's head and said, "Mine."

The next time he remembers kissing her is when he's six and she's four. They're playing house in the Sub Station, Max watching them with rapt attention from the stroller Alex forced him into. Justin and Alex are husband and wife and he kisses her on the cheek when he comes home from work. It's sweet and adorable and the few customers (older couples that usually fill the station in the early afternoon) coo over the exchange.

He kisses her a handful of times over the next decade; innocent kisses on the cheek or forehead. And it's endearing because he's her big brother.

The first time he kisses her, she's fourteen and she's mocking him and his nerves over kissing Miranda for the first time. They're in the dark theater and his face is still sticky from the smoothie Harper just poured on him. Alex is looking down at him with that infuriating grin on her face, mumbling something about the do over spell and he's just so pissed and stressed and confused over the past few days that he pulls her down and kisses her hard. Effectively shutting her up and having his first kiss in one go.

He panics afterward after catching the look on her face, somewhere between disgust and content, so he takes her wand and wipes her memory.

It won't be the last time.

*****

He rubs her back comfortingly in the bathroom, keeping her hair out of her face as she vomits once more. She cries and rests her head on the toilet seat, he wants to say something about germs and being sanitary but he figures it isn't the time, so he just keeps his hand on her back.

When she's done throwing up, she flushes the toilet, brushes her teeth quickly and wipes her mouth off on her sleeve. He waits for her on the bed and closely observes her every move. She lingers in the bathroom, picking up the towels and clothes that are scattered on the cold tile floor.

She glances at him from the corner of eye and he holds back a sigh of relief, he knows she's about to relent. Knows that she's almost ready to talk to him, maybe even forgive him.

She walks slowly to the bed, her every step seemingly heavy, he knows the feeling; he just experienced it before walking through the hotel room door moments earlier.

"Alex," he says gently, raises a hand to touch her arm but she shrugs him off and sits on the opposite side of the bed.

"Why would you do it, Justin?"

He sighs and studies his hands, "I was trying to protect you."

She rolls her eyes, but it's halfhearted at best, "You can't always protect me, Justin. You can't," she pauses and frowns, "You can't take things away from me, especially when I want them."

His stomach drops, he knew that she wanted this, wanted him, and wanted _them._ But he's never heard her say it out loud. It's unsettling how blissful the words make him feel and his stomach drops again. He's such a sick bastard. "I didn't have a choice, Alex. I couldn't…"

Her face settles into a deep scowl, "Couldn't have me be happy? God, Justin. After years of watching me go after guys and have my heart broken, you do this? You take away the one thing I want."

He's growing tired of this conversation, they've had it before, a few months before, but he was quick to slip her the potion, even had Max agreeing to administer it, "Dammit, Alex. You know that we can't. We've talked about this before."

She raises an eyebrow sardonically, "Really, Justin? Have we? Hmm, I can't seem to _remember_. I wonder why that is."

"Alex," he pleads, "Don't. Please. Look, just," he reaches into his pocket, reaching for the vial, he holds it out, offering the blue liquid to her, "Take some, please? It's better if you just forget."

She hesitates, glances back and forth between him and the potion in his hand, finally she reaches for it, tracing his palm gently before gripping the vial, "Does it tasted bad?"

He nods, swallowing hard, he clears his throat before answering, "Yeah, mix it in with some water."

"Come with me," she says gently.

He follows her into the bathroom and watches as she pours the liquid down the sink.

* * *

A/N: See, I told you. There is a plot. Lol. Thank you for all your reviews, let me know what you think of this chapter!


	6. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_Only when the goal is unattainable  
Do I start to feel like I'm losing myself  
And this deep secret  
That hasn't come out yet  
Is buried down deep with the rest_

Unattainable- Little Joy

Chapter Five (Alex)

It starts the Monday after Justin leaves. She feels sick, her stomach churning. She has a fever, she's tired but she can't sleep. Her legs cramp up and she sweats constantly. Which is disgusting, so she goes to the doctor and he tells her it's the flu. She doesn't believe him. But she does what she's told and goes home and rests on the couch, drinking plenty of fluids and watching re-runs of _Degrassi_.

And then the images come. At first they're only when she's sleeping, just glimpses of things. A hand, a painting, a rainforest. It only takes her a few days to realize that they're memories. And then they start happening while she's awake. They're still brief, but she knows that they mean _something_.

She does what she does best, she calls Justin. She needs his help, wants it even. But he doesn't answer. At first she assumes that he's in class, that he's busy, after all, it hasn't been easy getting a hold of since he started Cornell.

But then she realizes that he's ignoring her and she can't figure out why. Which frustrates and hurts her (mostly hurts). So she leaves one last voicemail, choking on sobs. He'll understand, won't he? Do that big brother thing that he does so well. Hear the pain in her voice and know that something's wrong?

Apparently he doesn't.

So she does what she does second best, she runs away from her problem.

*****

"I'm running away," she says defiantly at dinner. She pushes her plate away and crosses her arms, scowling at her parents.

Theresa rolls her eyes discreetly, but plays along with her daughter, "Why is that, Alex?"

Alex huffs, blowing a tendril of hair away from her face, "Because. I don't like carrots. And you shouldn't make me eat them. They're dumb."

Justin frowns at her from across the table, "Don't run away, Alex."

She glares at him and swings her legs back and forth in her chair, wishing she were a little taller and her feet could reach the floor, but she's only six and still short. "Why not?"

Justin sighs and pokes at his food with his fork; he doesn't look at her but answers her quietly, "Because I'd miss you."

She smiles a little at this. Justin's eight now, he doesn't play with her like he used to and it's nice to know that he still likes her, "Would you come after me?"

He sighs again, more impatient than sad this time, "Of course I would. Now eat your carrots."

*****

She watches him, studies his mouth that still's agape, his grey eyes still wide with shock and she almost smiles.

He stops staring at the sink and the hint of blue that still lingers on the white porcelain and looks up at her, "Why would you do that?"

She narrows her eyes, "Why did you do it?"

He clenches his eyes shut and runs his hands through his hair in frustration, tugging on it slightly, "I was trying to protect you!" He says through gritted teeth.

"I don't want you to! I've grown up, Justin! You can't keep making decisions for me! I'm not six anymore!"

He sniffles and she looks up in time to see him wipe his eyes, "I shouldn't have done it."

"Damn right," she says, she pushes past him and goes to the window and stares at the sun that's still rising. She can just make out the beach now and takes a little bit of comfort in the familiar sight.

"I meant, I should have never done those _things_ to you. I don't regret using magic on you."

She groans and lowers her head, closing her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, "Did I ever say no?"

He's quiet for a moment and she turns to him, finds him standing in the middle of the room, studiously avoiding her, "No, you didn't."

"So, you had my consent?"

He sighs, "That still doesn't make it right."

"And just because it isn't 'right' doesn't mean that you can memories away from me!"

"I didn't take them from you! Dammit, Alex. Could you shut up for once in your life and listen? Look, so, I may have taken a few. But it was temporary. I was so shaken up from everything that we had done that I didn't do the magic right. I had to find a way to suppress them. So I found the potion. I made it. And I gave it to you to keep the memories hidden. You still _have _them. You just can't remember them right now."

His face is red from yelling after his rant. And he's breathing heavily, but what really gets to her are the tears in his eyes. She walks to him, placing her right hand on his chest. He stiffens for a minute before catching his breath and she feels his heartbeat slow down and then pick up again when she wraps her arms around him.

He returns the embrace hesitantly, carefully resting his chin on top of her dark tresses. Her voice is soft when she asks, "When will they come back?"

He sighs heavily, "Soon. A week or two. But it's going to hurt. It's going to be like detoxing from drugs. But it'll last longer. I imagine you've already started to feel sick, right?"

She nods and she can feel his pain seeping from him as he tightens his arms around her, "I'm so sorry, Alex."

She turns her head away from his chest, listens to his heartbeat, lets the sound and the familiarity of it soothe her. "I know you are. Just, don't do it again, okay?"

He doesn't respond, just starts running his hand down her back, creating miscellaneous patterns on her t-shirt, makes her skin break out in gooseflesh. She bites back a moan. He probably doesn't even realize what he's doing. If he _did_ he'd probably stop right away.

"Justin?"She tries again.

"Hmm?" The vibration in his chest tickles her and she grins slightly.

"You know I want you too, right?"

He doesn't answer, "Let's go to bed, okay? Crash for a few hours. I'm exhausted and I still have to drive you back to New York." He pulls away from her quickly and curls up in a ball on the very edge of the bed.

She doesn't like his tone. Or his demeanor.

He's planning something.


	7. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_You're a rose, and you're laughing now.  
Everything that I own  
Starts to pile up like bones  
To make the walls of a prison.  
Laid her on the bed.  
Laid her on the bed.  
I don't ever wanna go to bed.  
Please stay up for the fight._

Bed- Brand New

Chapter Six (Justin)

He doesn't sleep. He lies still in bed, exaggerating his breathing, his eyes closed and he stays as far from her as possible on the bed. She joins him eventually, curling into herself and falling asleep after the sun's come up.

He turns to her then, when her breath is deep and steady and the sight of her tightens his chest. Makes it ache with something that he's been trying to deny.

He scoots toward her, tracing the curve of her cheek lightly with his fingers before tucking her hair behind her ear. It's longer than it's been in quite some time, hangs just above the hem of her shirt. It's curlier too, hasn't been straightened in days.

He smiles at her sadly. She looks like a little girl.

*****

Justin doesn't like Harper. And it's not because she's weird and makes him macaroni necklaces and picture frames out of popsicles sticks that she's meticulously colored with her new Crayola markers. Yeah, that's annoying. But what really bothers him is the fact that she took his sister away.

He knows that as her big brother he should be happy for Alex. She's always been special. And she's always had difficulty making friends. Sometimes because she's too bossy but Justin thinks it's because the other kids don't get her.

Part of him wishes they did. And another part (a much bigger part that often feels guilty) is glad that they don't. _He_ understands her. She doesn't need anyone else to. Does she?

He glares petulantly at the pair of nine year old girls as they dance around the Sub Station. Alex never plays with him anymore. She only talks to him when she has something nasty to say. And he knows that he's eleven and he's getting older and most older siblings would be thankful that their younger siblings don't feel the need to be attached to their hip, but he isn't.

Maybe he isn't normal. Well, he knows he isn't. He's a wizard. He's extremely smart. He doesn't play sports (which a lot of boys in the neighborhood still tease him about). And well, he still wishes he and his sister were best friends.

Sometimes she'll look at him at dinner, and he knows that she wants the same thing.

He wishes she would realize that they aren't normal people.

*****

She's silent in the car.

He doesn't know whether to be thankful for this or not. He tightens his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles are white when he sees her open her mouth. But she shakes her head and looks out the window instead.

He relaxes.

They've been in the car for over two hours and it's a miracle that she hasn't said anything, hasn't tried to coerce an answer out of him. If she stays silent the rest of the trip it will be the longest that she's gone without talking to him.

The idea makes him stomach churn.

She's either still mad at him (and he definitely doesn't blame her, he's been a complete dick lately, ignoring her calls and then dumping all of this on her) or she's planning something. Or both. And that's even worse. Alex's plans lead to very, very bad things.

"Justin?" She asks hesitantly, breaking the silence.

He lets out a quiet sigh of relief, glad that the tension in the car has been momentarily disrupted, it was beginning to stifle him, "Yeah?"

"Are you going to stay at the loft tonight? I mean, I know you haven't slept. It can't be very safe for you to drive back to Ithaca without any sleep."

He shrugs, trying to feign indifference.

She sighs impatiently and stares down at her hands, playing with the silver band on her right ring finger, a gift from their parents when she was confirmed. She only twirls it when she's aggravated, it's became a habit over the last five years.

He follows the movement for a moment, knowing he's the reason that it's spinning. He looks away quickly, before she can see him and before he ends up crashing the car.

"You should stay, Justin," she says twenty minutes later. "You need sleep. You need what, that, RAM sleep, right?"

He grins, "It's REM, you know, R E M, like that band dad really likes. And yeah, you do need it."

"Oh," she says lightly, her cheeks reddening slightly. She always tries to play off her mistakes, but he knows that it embarrasses her when she makes them, especially when she makes them in front of him.

They're quite again. She watches the world pass by and he focuses on the road, wanting to get her home safely and as soon as possible. He called their mom a few minutes after Alex woke up, telling his parents that he found Alex and that they would be home in a few hours. He glances at the clock. That was almost three hours ago. They should be back in the city soon.

"Mom would want you stay," she mutters, he isn't sure if she intended for him to answer but he replies.

"I know, Alex," he looks at her briefly and turns away when she tries to make eye contact.

She's louder the next time she talks and he knows he's meant to hear her words, "_I_ want you stay."

He sighs heavily, "I'll stay, okay? Just for a few hours and then I have to get back to school. I can't always drop everything to come after you, okay? It's not fair to expect that from me, Alex."

She narrows her eyes at him, a new habit that he's grown used to the past few hours, "You can't come after me? You can't be around me? But you can waste your time slipping me potions?"

"Alex," he warns, gritting his teeth.

She sighs and plays with the ends of her hair, "Whatever," she huffs.

The rest of the trip passes in silence.

He carries her bag, watches her from the door of the Sub Station as she briefly accepts hugs from their mom and dad and barely listens as they reprimand her for running away. But he knows their disciplining is half hearted. The relief of having her home and safe outweighs any wrongdoing.

She rushes up the stairs to the loft.

He can't do this.

He won't be coming here anymore.

* * *

Happy Valentine's Day! The story will now be in Alex's POV unless otherwise indicated that the beginning of the chapter. Thank you so much for your reviews. Leave some more and let me know what you think! :)


	8. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_And I need something to help me sleep  
When I know you're not good for me  
And I need something I can keep  
From the empty space in between  
From the empty space in between_

Sleep-Meiko

Chapter Seven

She goes straight to her room after talking to their parents. She doesn't want to know what he's doing. She doesn't want to see him right now. It's safer for her to assume that he's keeping his word. But she knows Justin and knows that he'll do anything to avoid her. At least for a little while.

So as much as she wants to think that he's downstairs, chatting with their parents before trudging up the stairs and crashing on his bed, she knows that more than likely he's getting back in his car and heading back to Ithaca.

She swallows hard and drops her bag at the end of her bed. The thud it makes when it makes contact with the floor pulls her out of her daze, just for a second. Just long enough to hear her parents mumbling outside of her room. Words of relief over her return. And words of worry about Justin's hasty departure.

She doesn't acknowledge the knot in her stomach or the tightness in her chest. Just brushes away the tears before they fall and curls up under her covers and tries to sleep.

*****

Her mom tells her it's the flu. Alex looks up at her mother, pouting slightly, "Does that mean I can't play?"

Theresa's eyes soften and she pushes back Alex's bangs with a cold hand, "I'm sorry, honey, you just have to stay in bed and rest, okay?"

Alex nods begrudgingly and settles back against her pillows, pulling her stuffed owl closer to her chest, "Will I have to rest for long?"

Theresa shrugs and pulls the covers up to Alex's chest, tucking her in tightly, "I don't know, Alex. Just try and sleep, alright?" Theresa smoothes Alex's bangs back once more and kisses her forehead gently, "Feel better, sweetie."

Alex nods and watches her mother leave the room.

She tries to sleep. But she can't. Even though her head and stomach hurts and it's all she wants to do, she just can't rest. It could be the stuffy nose that's preventing her from closing her eyes, she isn't sure. So she rests in bed as best she can without sleeping. She plays with her owl for a little bit. Asks him about his day and what he thinks they should do when she gets better. But Ollie doesn't know. When she tires of him she reaches for her sketch pad and new colored pencils that rest on her stand. She draws for a little while. That makes her head hurt worse and she starts to cry in frustration.

Finally she falls into a fitful rest and doesn't wake until the middle of the night.

She isn't sure what the time is. Just knows that the loft is quiet, that the lights are on outside and that she's never been awake at this time before.

The shadows in the room scare her so she gathers Ollie and leaves her room.

Justin's room is just as dark as hers, but doesn't scare her as much because she knows that he's in there.

"Justin," she whispers, shaking her older brother, he groans and opens his eyes, looking at her confusedly for a moment.

"What are you doing, Alex?" He asks, his voice sounding silly and tired. But then again, his voice has been sounding different a lot lately, started changing after he started seventh grade a few months earlier.

"I couldn't sleep," she follows his gaze and finds that he's staring at her stuffed toy with amusement, "Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"I'm sick, okay? I want my stuffed toy, he makes me feel better. Look, can I sleep with you for the night?"

He hesitates before scooting over in the bed and lifting the blanket, "Of course. Ollie can stay, too." She smiles and curls up next to his body, relishing in his body heat and the warmth it provides.

He doesn't even complain when he's sick in bed with the flu days later.

*****

Alex's stomach starts cramping in the middle of the night. She curls up, holding a hand to her stomach as her face contorts in pain. Her stomach relaxes for a moment before the next cramp literally takes her breath away. She gasps and straightens in bed, struggles to get out of her bed, her mouth is filling with saliva and she knows it's only a matter of seconds before she's throwing up.

She makes it just in time, vomiting everything she's eaten that day, which wasn't much. Theresa comes rushing into the bathroom, frowning at her daughter's frame that's bent over the toilet. She sighs and rests next to Alex, rubbing her back with one hand and holding back Alex's hair with the other. "Again, Alex? Honey, what's wrong? Are you sick?"

Alex moans and wipes her mouth on her hand before flushing the toilet and moving to sit on the edge of the bathtub, "I don't know, mom. I'm sure whatever it is, it'll go away soon."

Theresa sighs heavily as she stands, "You've been saying that for a week, Alex, and you're not any better. That's it; I'm calling the doctor first thing in the morning."

Alex grimaces, knowing the doctor won't find anything, she agrees anyway. Shoos her mother from the bathroom and brushes her teeth quickly.

When she gets back to her room she finds her phone and calls Justin as she does every night. And it goes to voicemail, like it has every night prior. "I remembered the trip. We were by the fire. You were trying to tell me everything would be alright, that we would find the stone. That we'd fix everything. You offered me your shirt. But I said no. So you kissed me instead. I didn't push you away. I crawled into your lap and kissed you back," she swallows a sob, her voice breaking as she finishes her message, "I miss you, Justin. Please. Just call me. Let me know you're alright. It isn't fair to let me go through this by myself. Not when you're the one that did this to me. I love you. Bye."

She sets the phone on her stand and stares at her bed, she's so _tired_ but she knows as soon as she sleeps she'll be assaulted by the memories.

She'll be taunted by thoughts, by memories, of the one thing she wants most but knows she can't have.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews! I love you guys, lol, you're awesome. Leave some more and let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_Black butterfly  
Flutter me by  
Kick a little glitter into the night  
Spark up the stars  
Leave alone my heart  
I'm trying to be good by you alright, alright_

Black Butterfly- Laura Veirs

Chapter Eight

Alex stares listlessly at the TV, not comprehending the images on the screen. Her mom is in the kitchen preparing dinner, the phone pressed to her left ear. She's talking to Justin. It's the first time he's called in three weeks.

Their mom is chastising him about his inability to return phone calls. She can't hear him on the other end but Alex knows that he's sighing heavily and insisting that he's just been busy with school; sleepless nights and preparing for exams have gotten the best of him.

She would roll her eyes but she's sure that Max would catch her and she's supposed to be focusing on this inane show he's been trying to get her watch. He's perceptive about the most random things.

Theresa says goodbye, hangs up the phone and makes a frustrated noise behind her. Alex turns around and finds her mother determinedly mashing potatoes. The lines in her forehead are more pronounced and Alex can tell that her mother's hurt when she hears her sniffle quietly.

Minutes later they're gathered around the table and Alex hates how awkward it is. Jerry keeps glancing worriedly at his wife and only nibbles on his food, Theresa keeps her head down and plays with her own meal and Max sits quietly, not interfering with the strange silence that surrounds the Russo dinner table.

Alex eats as much as she can, though her stomach is in knots and she hates eating when she's upset. She compliments her mom on dinner, something she doesn't normally do and rubs her mom's shoulder reassuringly before placing her plate in the kitchen sink and rushing upstairs to her room.

She paces for a few minutes, trying to think of a way to solve the situation, fix things with Justin. She knows it's futile, knows that he's only going to ignore her like he has for the past few weeks. She hates having problems with Justin. She doesn't do guilt, she doesn't do conflict, she doesn't like dealing with anything that digs too deep but Justin has always had a way of getting under her skin.

She gives up eventually and settles on her bed with a spell book, determined to focus her energy on something she has a chance of understanding.

*****

"Justin," Alex whispers, knocking as gently on his door as possible. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, anxiously waiting for her brother to open the door. He doesn't answer and she pouts and knocks again, "Justin," she says louder this time, in case he couldn't hear her the first time.

After a few more minutes and even more knocking, he answers his door. He glares down at her, which isn't all that scary, she thinks to herself. Especially with his front tooth missing. It's all he's been talking about the past few weeks. His stupid tooth and how loose it is.

She hates that he's losing more teeth than her. She wants another visit from the tooth fairy. Alex refused to believe him the first time he told her about the tooth fairy and how she brings money for your old teeth. Why would someone want teeth? Especially old baby teeth. They're too small to be worth anything. Alex changed her mind though when she found a dollar bill under her pillow the next day.

"What?" He asks, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. She knows what he's trying to do. Their daddy does the same thing when he's upset about their mommy not agreeing with him. Well, she still thinks Justin is a stupid head. And she doesn't think she should say sorry.

"I'm not sorry," she says definitely, raising her chin and crossing her arms, something she's seen her mom do when she fights with daddy.

Justin narrows his eyes and moves away from the door, preparing to shut it, but she's faster than him and shoves her foot in the way, no matter how mad he is at her, he would never hurt her.

"Alex," he spits out, though he doesn't sound too angry, more annoyed and her lips curl up, she knows she's close to having him cave in.

"It's not my fault, Justin! Why won't you believe me? Max did it!"

"Max is three, Alex," he replies, shaking his head in disbelief, "Why would Max take it?"

She huffs and pushing her hair out of her face, it's too long and heavy, she wants a haircut but daddy likes her pretty little curls, "I don't know! Maybe because he's a baby and it was shiny and he likes shiny things? He didn't mean to break it, promise."

Justin stares at her for a moment, "Okay," he says simply. He pushes her foot away gently with his own and starts to shut his door.

But Alex isn't satisfied; she needs to hear the words, "Am I forgiven?"

He shrugs halfheartedly and she relaxes as a grin grows on his face, "Yeah," he answers and shuts the door.

She rolls her eyes and skips happily back to her room, took him long enough.

*****

School sucks. Which is probably an understatement, but she's tired. More than tired, she's exhausted. And it's too hard to care about school and how much she hates P. E.

Justin hasn't talked to her in a month. A freaking month. And it's not like she can go to Ithaca and shake him until he's her Justin again and stops the douchebag act. She doesn't have a car, doesn't have a license, her parents won't let her get one until she's eighteen, which was fine by her, not like she can't get through the city without a car, but it blows now when she needs to get to Justin.

She can't use magic. She'll never hear the end of it. She'll be chewed out by him and probably have her wand taken away by her dad.

She leans back against her locker and watches the other students scamper to class. The bell's probably going to ring soon but she doesn't care. She lifts her bag onto her shoulder and just leaves the building.

There's no point in being there.

* * *

A/N: Love your reviews. Keep them coming. Justin's POV next time. With some of the memories you've been hoping for. I get the feeling you guys want some action, lol. This story's probably going to be longer than my others, so it's going to be a little slower. Sorry about that.


	10. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_A tear in the membrane  
Allows the voices in  
They wanna push you off the path  
With little frequency wiring  
But you can do no wrong  
In my eyes  
A drunken salesman  
You're hearing damage  
Your mind is restless  
They say you're getting better  
But you don't feel any better_

Hearing Damage-Thom Yorke

Chapter Nine(Justin)

He swears he's turned into some goddamn country song cliché. Drinking his sorrows away in some seedy bar, rambling to the person on the stool next to him about the woman he loves. All he's missing is a pickup truck.

He stares down at his drink, vodka. Alcohol warms him. When he's swallowing it and the heat from it his spreading through his body he almost feels like he's in her arms again. Warm. Safe. Loved. The alcohol doesn't provide him with safety or love but the heat of it, it's comforting. He'll take that for now.

He downs the rest of his drink, his throat burning and he clenches his eyes shut. The guy next to him chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. Justin ignores him. He feels like shit. And he rather feel like shit in this bar surrounded by people he doesn't know than to be cooped up in his dorm feeling like an asshole.

God, he misses her. He misses her smile, her laugh, her voice, her hair, her eyes, her smell, her mouth…

The list is never ending.

He misses her so much he's resorted to using magic for unsavory things, like making fake IDs to get into bars and drink until he's thrown out and left puking in the street. He hasn't gone to class in a week. Doesn't do much of anything anymore. Eats greasy food and drags his sorry ass to the bar every night. Drinking himself into a stupor. It's the only thing that allows him to sleep peacefully. The only thing that keeps the memories at bay.

*****

The first time she moans in his ear he almost comes in his pants. But it's so soft and sounds so fucking good. He closes his eyes at the sound, memorizes it and cups her breast again, his thumb brushing her nipple once more. Her nipple hardens at the movement and she moans again.

He works her shirt over her head and struggles with her bra. She giggles lightly at him, her cheeks red and eyes bright, it's the happiest he's seen her in a while, she reaches around and unclasps her bra for him. The straps sliding down her shoulders and he hesitantly reaches forward to pull the fabric down.

His breath catches at the sight of her bare breasts. He's always known she's beautiful. But like this, laying in his bed, her hair strewn across his pillow and her eyes dark with desire, cheeks flushed with excitement and her bare torso exposed to him; she's fucking _perfect_.

*****

Her calls are the worst. Listening to her remember their times together. Her voice full of longing and sadness, it breaks him. It kills him to hear her in pain. And he's the one that's done it to her. He was supposed to be the one person to never hurt her, never do her wrong. And now here he is, breaking her heart when he was only supposed to be breaking his.

He chucks his phone across the room (whatever damage is done he can repair later with his wand) and sinks to the ground. He tugs at his hair, groaning in frustration. He wishes he could take everything back. His hugs, caresses, kisses, the whispered declarations of love in her ear…

But the thought of never having those things makes his heart sink and his stomach clench.

He brushes away his tears before they fall and picks himself up from the floor. He grabs his wallet and keys and heads off to numb himself for another night.

*****

The day Alex trades brains with Harper is absolute torture.

He panics for a second when he catches sight of her smile, the smile that is only directed toward him when they are alone, when they are _together_. He wracks his brain, trying to remember the last time he gave her the potion.

Between that and Daphne he's tense all night. Worrying about his new "girlfriend" and trying to think of ways to get rid of her is bad enough. And then Alex had to waltz in, looking at him like _that. _He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs heavily, pacing around his room. He checks his watch. Daphne would be here soon and he needs to get his shit together and calm down.

He sits at the counter, thousands of thoughts filling his head. When did he last give her the potion? It was at breakfast, wasn't it? He thought he put it into her orange choice before they left for school. He could be wrong…

Next thing, Alex is pulling him and he can't stop the panic that flashes across his face. When she whispers, "I have two brains inside my head," he has to tell himself to calm the fuck down and then feels like an asshole for being so happy about his sister's predicament.

He's relieved when she tells him to talk to Harper's brain as proof for her story. And yeah, when he says hi to Harper he knows she's telling the truth, knows that he's off the hook for another day.

Later that night after Daphne leaves and everything is resolved with Harper and her brain is back in her head where it's supposed to be, he sits next to Alex in the lair. A book in his lap and sketchbook in hers. They're quiet, both lost in their activities.

He hears her gasp and watches as her drawings fall out of her lap and flutter to the floor. Her arm is wrapped around her torso and she's breathing heavily and in that moment, with her brown eyes filling with tears, he knows he's fucked. Knows it's only a matter of time.

He lowers himself to the floor, kneeling in front of her and helping her breathe through the pain. "Shh," he whispers to her, brushing his lips across her forehead, "It's okay, Alex."

He's such a goddamn liar.

*****

He's drunk off his ass when the man approaches him. But Justin can tell something is different about him the moment he sits down.

He listens to Justin's drunken ramblings all night, nodding when necessary and buying Justin more drinks when he begins to sober up.

When Justin's done, when he's poured his heart out to this man, the stranger raises an eyebrow and offers Justin a way to escape everything.

And Justin takes it.

* * *

A/N: I am so unbelievably sorry for the delay! I'm going to try to get back on my normal posting schedule. Thank you for all your reviews. I love reading them and look forward to reading some more. Please leave one!


	11. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_So tell me when you hear my heart stop,_

_You're the only one who knows,_

_Tell me when you hear my silence, _

_There's a possibility,_

_I wouldn't know._

Possibility- Lykke Li

Chapter Ten

She knows that something is wrong with him. She knows that he's in trouble. She wakes up in the middle of the night, her clock displaying three AM in obnoxiously bright blue. Her breathing is heavy like it is after a nightmare, her brow sweaty and her heart beating hard in her chest.

Alex throws her blankets off of her body and rushes out of her door and into her parent's room.

"Mom," she whispers frantically, shaking Theresa's shoulder, "mom, wake up now."

Her dad groans from the other side of the bed as Theresa sits up, wiping the sleep from her eyes and turning on her bedside lamp, looking up at her daughter with concern, "What's wrong, mija?"

Jerry pulls the covers over his head, "Is it morning? Is the Sub Station on fire?" He sniffs at the air, "Nope, didn't think so. Go back to bed, Alex."

Theresa glares at him and slaps at his frame hiding under the sheets, "Jerry, stop it." She turns back to Alex, her expression softening, "What's wrong, Alex? Are you feeling sick again? Do you need me to—"

Alex cuts her off, "Shut up! Both of you! Something's wrong with Justin! We need to go find him! Call him! Drive to Ithaca! Please! Mom! He's," Alex swallows hard, keeping her tears at bay, "Mom, he's in trouble. I just know it."

Theresa frowns and pulls Alex down onto the bed, gripping her daughter's hands tightly, "Alex," she says, "Sweetie, it was just a bad dream. Justin is fine. And safe. In his dorm sleeping or studying," she rubs Alex's arms, the friction burning her arms, "just go back to sleep and we'll call him in the morning."

Alex shakes her head, a tear rolling down her cheek, "Mom, no. I just _know_ that something isn't right."

Theresa sighs and turns to her husband, "Couch tonight, Jerry. Alex is sleeping in bed with me."

Jerry emerges from the blankets and sighs heavily, "Alright, alright. But I get breakfast for dinner tomorrow for this." He kisses Theresa lightly on the lips and rubs Alex's back, kissing the back of her head before shuffling out of the room to his makeshift bed for the night.

Theresa scoots over in bed to her husband's side and pulls Alex down with her. Alex's begins to cry, loud sobs that fill the room and break her mother's heart.

Theresa kisses her daughter's temple and sighs, "Oh, Alex. Shh. It's okay."

"It's just a spell, Justin," a sixteen year old Alex states, hands on her hips as she looks up at her older brother, a stern look on her face.

Justin frowns and begins to panic, "No it isn't! Alex! God!" He pulls lightly at his hair, "Don't you read anything?"

Alex frowns, her forehead creasing and begins gesturing with her hands like she always does during one of their routine fights. "Of course I do! I thought it would be helpful!"

Justin glares at her, "God. Alex, can't you ever do anything right? I'm sick of fixing everything for you! Guess what? I can't fix this! You found one of the few spells in magic that's irreversible and you had to go and use it on me!"

Alex's face falls and she sinks down into her typical spot on the couch in the Lair. Her voice is quiet and thick as she says, "I just wanted a way to be connected with you always. You're going away to college soon. I want to be able to know if you're okay. I know I tease you but…"

"But what?" He asks in the same soft tone his sister is using.

Alex looks down at the floor for a minute before hesitantly looking up at her brother, "Justin," she says, in a tone that tells him everything he needs to know. She needs him. She would be lost without him. Just like he'd be lost without her.

He approaches her slowly, sits next to her on the couch and looks down at the floor like she is. "You know this bonds us forever, right?" He clears his throat, his cheeks flushing, "Did you see what the spell is typically used for?"

Alex glances at him briefly and he catches her eye, making her cheeks turn bright red, "Yes," she whispers so quietly.

"Lovers," he says hoarsely, his voice breaking when he says the word.

Alex just gives him a look, staring at him so intently with her big brown eyes, eyes he hasn't been able to resist since he was two years old. She holds his gaze for a few minutes before standing up and leaving the room.

He takes a deep breath, the scent of her hair filling his nose and he bites his lip. Bites it until his lip aches and blood runs down his chin.

Blood that he shares with her.

Alex wakes up with a headache the next day in her mom and dad's bed. She doesn't know what time it is, the curtains are drawn and the room is still dark. It must be sometime in the afternoon. Which means her mom let her stay home from school for the day.

She rubs her face with her hands, groaning as she does so and begins to run small circles on her forehead, trying to soothe the pain in her throbbing head.

Her stomach hurts, too. She's so exhausted from the past few months. The lack of Justin. The tension with him when she does see him. The detoxing from the potion. It's been a week since Justin has called the house. Which is typical for him.

But she knows, can feel it, that something is wrong with her brother. He's in trouble. And no one believes her.

It's not like she can tell them, "Oh yeah. My brother and I are bonded through this magical spell that's intended for lovers. It lets me know when something is wrong with him. When he's in danger. It's really handy."

No. She has to keep this to herself. She has to do this on her own. Something that she isn't used to. She's grown up with Justin by her side. Keeping her safe, fixing her mistakes, helping solve everything.

What is she going to do now? Ask Max? The idea makes her snort. She can't ask Harper. Her mom obviously doesn't believe her. Neither does her dad. And Uncle Kelbo? Let's face it; he's fun to prank people with, but problem solving? Not his strong suit.

She sits up in bed, brings her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them.

Alex Russo needs a plan.

* * *

A/N: wow. i am so, unbelievably sorry about the delay for this chapter. i'm sure i lost a lot of readers. and i'm so sorry to have disappointed all of you. i've been through so much personally the past few months. not to mention, i haven't had any internet. but internet is back! and more chapters to come after this! and hopefully more of your reviews! and thank you to all of those that PMed or continued to review! i appreciate it sooo much! i hope you enjoyed the chapter!


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